One thing I’ve learned in life is it is imperative for one to have good friends. Friends that are there for you, that have your back, who will support you in every way.

I have none, but apparently some people do and that’s a very important thing, to HAVE FRIENDS that support you and are there for you (HINT) not that I’m naming names.

I realize Chunker is adopted and that even biological children will sometimes greatly differ from their parents but sometimes, when it seems you fit together so well, that you kind of jell – mesh in your interests, so to speak – and suddenly something happens and you realize they are not a mini-me but are their own person with their own interests it can take a while to adjust. That would be the time that a person would reach out to their dearest friends for support IF THEY HAD ANY. I’m just sayin’ and not naming names.

Yesterday I made a devastating discovery. I’m still reeling from this and to say my heart is broken is not far from the truth. To find that my own little Chunker doesn’t share a love for the same thing I do – the thing that defined my youth, that colors my life to this day, the thing I turn to when I need it most…that in fact she does not just dislike it, but actively (and actively is the active word here) HATES it. (Murph T. Dog is now my favorite, lying under my chair, tripping me every time I try to stand up to get more coffee – but I don’t care because he’s hanging with me while that little traitor Cat abandons me, not that I’m bitter. Altho my legs have finally decided to cooperate, and I do really need more coffee, and I could get up the stairs to get it if the dog wasn’t in my damn way. But I digress.)

When work gets boring and my brain is about to fall out of my head and land on the desk bouncing about like a walnut…when I’m stressed to the max and I get in the car and crank the radio to 1,000 on the volume and nudge the bass up 1 extra … when I need to get the house cleaned and the car washed and have no energy … I turn to my first love(s). And this, (below), is what happened yesterday when I turned to my SUPPOSED FRIENDS for support on Facebook (and I know! Turning to friends for support on FB is like standing on a corner at 40 and Germantown holding a sign: “Honestly, I really want to work hard for a living but instead I’m going to stand here on this corner with this sign asking you to help me.” Basically: you’re going to get the response and support that is not always what some unamed DEAR FRIENDS would give you.)

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Post to FB: This is absolutely horrible. I cannot believe this. Chunk does not like AC/DC or Metallica, Bon Jovi or Aerosmith, Van Halen, The Who, Black Sabbath…none of them. I cannot understand how my child could have gone so wrong. I’m devastated. Not to mention I can’t play Pandora while I work now, because as soon as I turn it on her tail diameter increases by 300% and she starts attacking everything in the room.

Responses from SO-CALLED FRIENDS (no names, keeping it anonymous)

Jay Chunk can never be my friend.

Rachel Rose It just goes to show – ALL OF THAT STUFF IS THE WORK OF THE DEVIL!!!! Cats know these things…

Terri Lee *SOB* Highway to Hell just sent her running into the den. *sniff*

Cindy Sounds like she doesn’t like you very much either. (thank you for your support, “friend”)

Rachel Rose Terri, you’re not dancing around the house wearing devil horns, are you?

Terri Lee You’re all poopyheads and I’m just going to sit here all by myself listening to War and I hope you’re happy.

Cindy But Chunk won’t be and you will be the one to pay for that –

Terri Lee lalalalalalala I can’t hear you

Cindy I SAID – BUT CHUNK WON’T BE HAPPY AND YOU WILL BE THE ONE TO PAY FOR THAT – NANNER NANNER. YOU’RE GOING TO GET ATTACKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT – HAHAHAHA – AND IT WON’T BE FROM A DRUNK COMING IN THROUGH THE 2ND FLOOR WINDOW. (ed note: which, by the way, did happen, but more on that later) IT WILL BE A 7 LB SOFT, FURRY HARMLESS (SO YOU THOUGHT) KITTEN. DID YOU HEAR THAT?! (“friend” tries to play the Guilt Card)

Terri Lee I’m just so devastated that she hates my music, the sounds of my soul.

Mary One thing is for sure. Your life is never boring. (“friend” is making fun of my lonely life, abandoned by Cat and repeatedly passively-agressively tripped by Dog)

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Which is how I ended up on a Saturday morning sitting here all alone in my little garret surrounded by a bunch more pizza boxes containing dried up crumbs of crust and several empty boxes o’ wine, talking to my two imaginary friends on my blog. Now I’m going to queue up a few favs and smile through my tears, here all alone, friendless, thanks so not. (In the interest of full disclosure I will confess to what my daughter pointed out: I went through a Yanni phase. Not proud…but there it is…it was just a fling; I discovered my error and returned to my true love)